


Ta På Deg Masken

by LivewirePrime



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU where dragons aren't basically extinct, Adventure & Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempts at diplomacy, Childhood Trauma, Culture Shock, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Ethical Dilemmas, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family Secrets, Fluff and Angst, Healer is gonna have a name, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Inspired by Fǫruneyti, Kidnapping, Mutual Pining, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, POV Third Person, Political Chaos, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, one big covid joke, possibly slow to update, some gender ambiguity, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27845104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivewirePrime/pseuds/LivewirePrime
Summary: Fǫruneyti AU in which dragonkind is very much still around, much to Odin's chagrin. Follow our dear Healer as she gets roped into a dragon-hunting adventure she never asked for, accompanied by Asgard's two eldest princes.Please note that while familiar characters and elements may appear in this story, the plot differs significantly from Fǫruneyti's, and the two aren't necessarily intertwined.Huge shout-out toEvaldrynn, the author ofFǫruneyti! You should go read their work first if you haven't already!
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Ta På Deg Masken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Evaldrynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evaldrynn/gifts).



> Slight warning in this chapter for internalization of verbal/emotional abuse.

She had been with them for as long as she could remember; had never really known life outside of her cage. Life inside the cage she had been kept in was boring at best, and torturous at worst. Often, she found herself frightened, humiliated, and, the most devastatingly of all, lonely. She didn’t understand why she was to be locked away; why they thought her to be dangerous, despite them all being more than twice her size. They acted like she was ready to bite their hands off the moment they stepped too close. She was just a little girl, so why…? Why was she caged like the other creatures? Like the large serpents, or the birds with serrated beaks, or the amber-eyed boars? In fact, why were any of them caged? Many times, when she had made eye contact with the other creatures, she had seen intelligence there, and felt some kind of kinship, some kind of _understanding,_ if only because they were all in the same situation; trapped and afraid. 

Yet, the caravan master and his men never answered her questions. Or, if they did, they did so derisively, reinforcing the label of monster, and citing how many men they had lost just even trying to obtain her in the first place. They called her a scaled, fire breathing beast - a dragon - but she didn’t think she looked at all like they were describing, and couldn’t fathom why they degraded her so much. She just wanted to be loved, but the only comfort to be had came from the solidarity of the other creatures - and didn’t _that_ do wonders to quell the mens’ claims that she too was a beast - so she often found no other option than to cry herself to sleep - not that any of them paid her any more attention than to shout at her to stop crying and keep quiet. 

She didn’t like it when they yelled at her. It only increased her anxiety about being locked up and helpless and lonely. So, she learned to keep quiet; to let the tears roll from her eyes without sobbing out loud as well; to accept whatever food scraps they tossed her way without complaint, no matter how gross they might have been; and to not cry for help when their caravan crossed the paths of others, or traveled through a city.

She didn’t like the big cities. She didn’t like how it felt like all eyes were on her; didn’t like how she felt like she couldn’t hide. The most she could do was curl up under the threadbare blanket she had been given, and pretend to be invisible. Even then, she still felt exposed and raw.

Sometimes they would stop for a while in the cities, and the caravan party would exchange goods and sometimes some of the creatures for shiny things, but never was she lucky enough to be traded away like that. Whenever anyone asked about her, their answer had always been that she wasn’t for sale, and that it was because she was dangerous; a monstrous creature in the shape of an asgardian. 

Often while her owners counted shiny objects with glee in their eyes after trading away a creature, she wondered what life would be like if she could be traded away too, but when she considered that such a situation could be worse than her current one, she became less wistful. There was food and water here, that much was certain.

Despite her resignation, she often found herself gazing up at the sky through the bars of her portable little cage, daydreaming of what it would be like to fly away, and be amongst the clouds. What would it be like, when the clouds were set ablaze by the setting of the sun? Were there people who lived up in the clouds? Would she find a castle in the sky? Would she ever be able to find out?

 _Probably not,_ she thought glumly to herself as the daydreams faded once more. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped the old blanket more tightly around herself, paying no mind to the bumps and jolts of the carriage as it rolled over the dirt roads of a small town. 

Then there was some shouting, and the caravan stopped. It didn’t sound angry yet, as far as she could tell, but she tuned in and listened.

“...explain to me why you have a girl in a cage?” Spoke a stern, mature, female voice she didn’t recognize.

 _“That’s none of your business. If you aren’t interested in buying, I’d suggest you move along.”_ The caravan leader, she recognized his voice. She’d heard this conversation many times, so she didn’t keep her hopes up.

“Well, is she for sale?” A different unfamiliar voice, meeker and male, spoke up. 

_“No, that creature is off limits,”_ the leader more firmly asserted. She heard the drawing of a sword from a sheath. Someone was threatening the other, but she didn’t know who was threatening who. 

“Sorry, sorry,” came the unfamiliar meek voice again, placating. She surmised, then, that it was the master and his men who were doing the threatening. “Just, it doesn’t sit right with us that you’ve got a little girl, probably not more than five or six years old, held captive in a cage.” 

_“You’ll back off if you know what’s good for you,”_ the master nearly growled. _“That isn’t an ordinary girl; that thing is a monster disguised as one of us, and it’s for everyone’s good that we’ve got it contained.”_

There was that label, and that excuse again. Every time they talked about her, or to her, it felt like she was being punished and degraded, and each time it felt like a dagger was being pushed into her ribcage; an imagined, sharp pain, accompanied by a burning feeling of shame that always brought the questions of “what did I do wrong?” or “what did I do to deserve this?” to her mind. She had stopped asking such questions aloud some time ago, but they still seared across her heart. 

This was usually the point when people would stop arguing and leave the caravan alone, and she didn’t expect this time to be any different, but she was taken by surprise when a third unfamiliar, deep male voice spoke up.

“Medhea, didn’t we see a bounty posted for some poachers a while back?” The deep, warm voice was dangerously casual; a threat, for sure, and her heart started racing. Anxiety and hope swelled up within her in equal measures. _This could be it. This could be my chance!_

“You know, Rangvaldr, I believe we did,” the female voice from earlier replied rather confidently, perhaps even smugly. “And you lot happen to match the description quite well.” Then, the sound of more weapons being drawn reached her ears. “Surrender or perish!” She stated loudly and with an air of unquestionable authority.

 _They’re going to fight,_ she giddily realized, with energy practically thrumming in her veins. It was like her stomach was soaring, and she hoped desperately that these strangers didn’t die by the Master and his mens’ hands; that it would be the other way around.

She listened anxiously to the sounds of battle, and watched what she could from her vantage point with a strange mix of elation and revulsion. The caravan people weren’t used to fighting other people as much as they were used to capturing creatures, and the attackers seemed to be far better trained by comparison. It was gratifying to see her handlers blood spilled, and to smell the tang of iron in the air, but at the same time, she couldn’t repress some faint feelings of grief for the few who hadn’t treated her like complete horseshit, and she couldn’t repress the pang of anxiety about her life circumstances changing. Even if it had been shit, it had been stable and it had been all she had known, and anything outside of that was new and scary. Would these people be nice to her? Would they just leave her be? Abandon her? The thought of being left completely alone terrified her, and she hoped desperately that she could go with them and that they would care for her.

She hadn’t realized when the fighting had died down, until there were new faces peering into her cage, and she instinctively backed up away from them and into a corner, making herself small and wrapping her tattered blanket tighter.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay now,” the female voice from earlier, belonging to a pretty yet rugged woman with eyes the color of sword steel, stated with a soothing, empty-handed gesture. “We’re not here to hurt you,” she reinforced, though it was a bit hard to accept, given the splash of blood that trailed across her face.

A thinner man, tanned and with curly, chestnut brown hair drew closer, with a concerned look in his warm brown eyes. “Oh dear,” he started, and immediately she connected that this was the more meek voice she had heard earlier, “when was the last time they fed you? _What_ have they been feeding you? Do you have any injuries? Can you speak, do you have a name?”

She was so startled by the amount of concern directed at her that she didn’t answer immediately, and she had a hard time mentally sorting through his slew questions. She felt overwhelmed, and it seemed the sturdy woman noticed her discomfort, because then the woman’s hand was on the wiry man’s shoulder. “Let’s slow down, Illasias. I think we’re scaring her.”

The woman’s gaze slid back to her, and they made eye contact for a bit. She searched the woman’s - _Medhea’s_ \- eyes for any signs of cruelty or malice, and though she found a hardened resolve, there was also something soft and warm in her gaze, and she felt herself relax a bit as her instincts about the woman decided she was trustworthy. “I…” She started, but stopped because her voice was rough from disuse and dehydration. She swallowed, and then tried again. “I don’t have a name,” she explained, and then darted her eyes away to the familiar, worn wooden boards making up the floor of her cage. “Unless ‘dragon,’ ‘monster,’ or ‘creature’ count…” she continued, without really meaning to. She understood that those weren’t proper names, and that they were all meant as insults, but she couldn’t remember a time when they had called her anything else. 

The ker-chunk sound of a lock opening brought her gaze back up to the two standing before her. The cage was open, and her heart nearly skipped a beat. “You are not a monster,” the man - Illasias - reassured, sounding quite sure of it himself. She found herself quite baffled by the resolve in his assertion. He seemed to notice, and continued speaking in a seeming effort to set the statement further in stone. 

“Those men who put you in this cage are monsters. Monstrosity is defined by what’s in your heart,” he said with a watery smile. “Not by what you may physically be, and by all accounts, you seem to me an innocent child, who did not deserve a single ounce of their mistreatment.” The man seemed close to tears, himself.

It was reassuring, even if she wasn’t sure she believed it. They at least didn’t think she was a monster, even if she still felt like one somehow, but that was all she needed for now. The sentiment alone was probably the oddest emotional dagger to the chest that she had ever felt, but this one was a positive one, that cut through the scabs of the old wounds and made her feel vulnerable in a whole new way; a way in which she felt able to cautiously hope that comfort may follow. It was fragile, and it hurt, and she almost wanted to tell them that they were wrong - that they should leave her be, because maybe the caravan people were right, and she would inevitably hurt anyone who got too close - but their kindness was also something she desperately wanted to latch on to, and so her mind was made up. 

“Can I go with you?” she asked, surprised with herself about how confident it sounded.

They tensed up, and it left her feeling on edge, close to falling. The fear of rejection welled up strongly within her, and she wondered despairingly why they would hesitate to answer such a simple question. There was sorrow in their eyes, which made her stomach drop like a stone, and when Medhea spoke, she felt her hopes sink further. “We don’t exactly have a solid home base. We’re a group of soldiers and healers, who travel constantly to offer aid and defend the lands between kingdoms, where their respective armies rarely go. It’s dangerous. Are you sure you want-”

“Yes!” she answered the instant it was clear they wouldn’t abandon her for personal reasons. The man named Illasias had said that monsters were defined by their hearts, and Medhea’s words informed her that theirs were in a place of good and justice, right? If she could go with them, then maybe, just maybe, she could prove she wasn’t a monster, too. She didn’t care at all if it was dangerous to go with them. “Yes,” she repeated, more firmly. 

Medhea and Illasias shared a look with one another, seeming to have a silent conversation with each other, before apparently reaching a decision, and turning back to her. “Then come along, little one. Let’s get you some proper food and clothes. We’ll do our best to take care of you.”

And so, she crawled out of her cage for perhaps the first time in her life, and didn’t look back as the caravan people were dragged off, dead or alive, to some place out of sight. Other creatures were being released, too, some of them dashing or flying away into the wilderness nearby, while others chose to stay with their apparent saviors, and she found herself smiling in the dimming twilight for the first time in a long time.

* * *

_Elsewhere, in a white palace...._

"Eh-ehm, excuse me, milord, I-I have news regarding the expected shipment..." 

The king, in his ochre garb, sat lazily upon his throne, slid his gaze to the meekly quivering servant. "Well, what is it? Have they finally arrived?"

"That, erm, well-" The servant couldn't meet the king's gaze.

"Spit it out," the king commanded in annoyance.

"Their caravan was attacked," the servant said quickly. "And there's no sign of any of the creatures they were escorting. I-Including, milord, the dragon they promised." Sweat glistened on his brow.

The king took a long inhale, and brought a hand to rest upon his forehead, as though a headache were setting in. "Send some soldiers to search for it. _Now."_

"O-of course, milord!" the servant acquiesced, before scurrying off as though his life depended on it.

**Author's Note:**

> I still haven't exactly settled on a name to give her, but I've brainstormed some ideas, and I would love to hear which ones you guys like the most! Consider it a vote. :D
> 
> Hallfridr - half beautiful  
> Magna - a mighty, strong woman  
> Magnhildr - strong warrior woman  
> Solfrida - beautiful/beloved sun/sunlight  
> Grímhildr - masked, warrior  
> Grímhylja - obscure mask  
> Grímfrida - beautiful mask  
> Þrjóska - Thrjóska - stubborn, willful, persistent  
> Þrá - Thrá - longing, yearning  
> Stjernelys - Starlight


End file.
